Ice and Fangs: Twins Awakening
by Knightwolfe
Summary: Powers colide. Blades clash. Blood spills. Voices scream. Lost are the souls of two warriors as they struggle to find thier way in a world of pain and fighting. Can they guide each other or will they lose each other in the tide of battle.
1. Ashes to Ashes

**Wolfe: Well, here it is! Many people have asked me(well complained some of them) to go in depth about the whole Vergil-capture thing plus the whole Tyler thing. So I've happily agreed. Special thanks to SirenaLoreley for the lend of her OC, Vladimyr. The credit for that character goes to her. I promise, this will not interfere with the progress of "_The Situation Room"_. So without further ado, the story!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money from this.**

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Dark. Cold. Nothing. Windblown landscapes as far as the eye could see, nothing for miles. Save for one landmark. An old castle, medieval in appearance and haunted in spirit. That's all the guarding hellhounds had seen their entire lives. They learned quick. Had to, for their survival depended on on their intelligence. The Master didn't like it when they strayed from their posts, when they misbehaved. And if the Master wasn't happy, then you didn't stand a chance of living very long.

The wind kicked up around them again, carrying on it the scent of the recent rain that had fallen near the clearing. The wind chilled them slightly and they shook their heads, the metal collars on their necks jangling quietly. Above them was a soft fluttering and then an intense whistle, the dead grass whistling as two shapes fluttered past them. The mistress was out for a ride again.

Above them came another noise. A long, monotonous buzzing. Time to go back in and let the next pack of hounds take over. It happened like this, every twelve hours, unfailing and like clockwork. One pack would enter, one would exit. Never failing. They knew not what went on within the walls of the castle. But their sensitive ears and noses picked up enough.

Enough of the screams, the crying and their noses always twitched with glee, for the scent of fear and blood always hung heavily in the air.

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"Dr. Shalom! Dr. Shalom!" A men in his late thirties spun around in his chair, short blond hair in disarray, storm gray eyes harrowed. The intern that had been running towards him skidded to a halt in front of the doctor's desk. File clutched tightly in his hand, his eyes widening as he gazed at the scientist. "Are you alright Dr. Shalom?!"

"Yes Timothy. I'm fine. Just a little... surprised at the recent turn of events." Behind him was a wall of monitors, several showing only television snow, others showing a landscape covered in blood. Timothy dropped the folder he had been holding, jaw going slack and eyes widening further. "H-he really killed the entire pride!? It was over three hundred strong!!" Shalom nodded. "But not without great injury to himself. By the time the last one had fallen, he could bear hardly any weight on his left leg, his right arm was practically useless and he was bleeding from multiple lacerations and gashes all over the rest of his body. The poison in the Shadow's claws worked. We stopped the healing process!!"

Normally, stopping the healing process would be seen as a bad thing. But not for them. They needed to stop the demonic healing process, or the experiments would never work. For, like many other insane scientists, they wanted to harvest the enormous power of demons and half-demons. One half-demon in particular. A son of Sparda. To harness the blood of The Great Dark Knight, could possibly put the world to an end. But unlike most villains past, Lex Shalom had no desire to open the Hellgates. No, he wanted Sparda's blood for an unknown, deadly task, that not even his most trusted assistants knew about.

"T-that's excellent Doctor! Should we send out Numb-" Shalom cut him off. "No! He's still an untrained specimen. Send me Vladimyr." Timothy shook his head. "I'm afraid that may be a problem, Doctor." Shalom cocked his head to the side. "And why would that be a problem?" He asked and Timothy sighed. "Mistress Kayta took Specimen Forty-three out for a ride about an hour ago. When Vladimyr found out, he left the castle to go find them." Just as Shalom was about to rip into Timothy, they heard a great commotion from down the hall.

"You have to stop doing that, Kayta!! He won't last long if you keep this up!" There was a snarl following that shouted sentence. "Oh, I'm_ sorry! _I didn't mean to hurt your little pet, Vladimyr, but he was asking for it." An indignant squawk was heard. "Damnit!! For the last time! He's not my pet! I was assigned to watch over him, not treat him like some pampered dog." The two yelling people stormed into the office at that moment, nearly at each other's throats in their anger.

"Father! Vladimyr is being mean to me!" Vladimyr glared at her sullenly. "Well if she didn't try to kill my ward every five seconds I wouldn't have to yell at her! She pushed him through the speed trial fifteen times today! That's too much for him. He landed in the courtyard, reverted and collapsed at my feet!!" Lex sighed. How he ended up with the only daughter and Royal Guard commander on the planet that wanted to rip each other's throats constantly, he didn't know.

"Enough you two!" He roared and sighed internally as both stopped and Vlad stood at attention while Kayta stood still. He swore that was really the only way to get those two to shut up sometimes. "Vladimyr, why do you bother? She's ten years younger than you with an attitude to match. Kayta, you know it's Vlad's responsibility to watch over Specimen Forty-three. Yet every chance you get, you go above his orders and do something to jeopardize the specimen's safety." Both sighed, Vlad chiming in with a "Yes Sir. Sorry, Sir." and Kayta sighing in tandem with Vlad's voice.

"Good. Now go on, Kayta. Vlad and I have something to attend to." She nodded, gave her father a hug and left. Vlad took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Lex's desk next to Timothy. "You wanted to talk to me, Sir?" Shalom nodded and began filling Vlad in on the details.

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Vergil hurt. Horribly so. He bled from gashes all over his body and limped along, dragging his leg gently behind him. In his time in hell he knew that demons congregated in large groups. But he didn't know that they would attack in such large groups.

He had lost track of the days since he'd escaped from hell. From Mundas's control. He didn't know what happened really. All he remembered was feeling a huge surge of power as buildings crumbled around him and lesser demons fell to their knees, screeching in pain as they slowly disintegrated into ashes. His armor had flickered and pain lanced through his head, leaving him aware of his surroundings for a little while.

Aware of what he had done. Who he had attacked. What he had destroyed. Everything. He'd screamed, a horrible demonic screeching sound. For at that moment, it wasn't Nelo Angelo standing there, it was Vergil. Another wave of power had blasted through then and, in another moment of clarity and through sheer will he managed to shed the horrid armor he'd been saddled with for years and stood there, himself again after so long.

He'd run then, tears streaming down his face as more flickers of the horrible deeds he'd done passed in his mind. He used the portal ability he had learned and jumped through, materializing in some unknown area. He didn't stop, barely stopping to drink or find food. He didn't know how long and he doubted he would be able to find out for a while.

He froze. Behind him he could here the quiet sound of a horse running towards him and he tensed, using his thumb to partially unsheathe the random sword he had taken in one of the towns far back in his travels.. The sound grew more rapid, louder and on the horizon he could see a lone horse-mounted figure. He relaxed. From what he could tell, the man had just seen him. More details were visible as the man drew closer.

In the dark of night and by the light of the moon he could see piercing red eyes and long dark silver hair, skin as white as snow covered by a black jeans and a black sweater, both covered with a blue trench coat much like his own. The man pulled his gray steed to a halt in front of Vergil, the horse rearing at the sudden halt.

"Oh my! Be you alright, stranger? You look as if you've been through the wars!" His voice was a kind baritone and Vergil almost relaxed. Almost being the key word. He caught sight of the Rapier by the man's side, sheathed right next to a long-barreled silver revolver. The man followed Vergil's line of sight and smiled. "No need to worry stranger. Those are purely for self-defense. Demons and the like have been known to prowl around here. Never hurts to have a little help." Vergil relaxed. So this man was a lone devil hunter or traveler.

The man held out his hand. "The name's Vlad, stranger. Can I offer you a ride to the nearest town. It's pretty big and they should have a doctor there to help you out with your injuries. And then I can treat you to a nice dinner perhaps?" The man seemed kind enough and Vergil_ was _hungry. He nodded and grabbed Vlad's hand. "Name's Vergil." The man gave him a disarming smile and helped him on the horse, careful of Vergil's numerous wounds. Once the other man was settled Vlad turned his head back around and clicked his tongue twice. "Move up, Gel." And off they went at a steady trot.

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The lights and sounds of Kavé City momentarily disoriented Vergil as he and Vlad rode into town on Vlad's gray stallion, Gel. He hadn't seen so many people in one place for a while. Vlad cursed under his breath and cast an uneasy smile Vergil's way when he cast him an odd look. "Looks like I brought us in at the wrong time. It's the Rain Festival. Means everything is going to be full." Vergil shrugged his shoulders and continued to look around him as Vlad stopped in front of the Hospital. He tethered Gel to a near-by post and helped Vergil clamber of. Well, more like fall, but Vlad wasn't going to say anything.

Upon entrance to the building, Vergil with one arm slung over Vlad's shoulder, they were assaulted by doctors and questions. Nurses pulled Vergil off of him and a doctor quickly looked him over before deducing that the other man was the patient. As Vergil was rushed into emergency, Vlad smiled.

Phase one was a success.

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A doctor found Vlad sitting in the waiting room, playing the worried companion. The doctor came over and sat down. "Are you the friend who brought that young man with the silver hair in here earlier?" Vlad nodded. "Could we get a name please." Vlad nodded. "His name's Vergil. I'm Vlad." The doctor shook hands with him. "Well young Vergil suffered multiple laceration, bruises and broken bones. The ligament in his left knee is torn and his right arm muscles are torn. We have him sedated and on pain killers for now. Do you have any idea how this happened?"

Vlad shook his head, playing the worried friend. "No clue. I was out riding my horse and found him that way." The doctor nodded. "I see. Well, if you want to see him, he's in room 334" Vlad nodded, the doctor left and Vlad stood.

"Time to do what I came here to do." He snarled and his eyes flashed golden for a moment as he went down the hall to his target's room.

He shut the door behind him and locked it firmly, staring blankly at the figure on the bed before him. He glided over to the window and open it as wide as it would go, which was pretty wide, all things considering. He closed his eyes and focused. A soft bang was heard and a cloud of blue smoke filled the room. When it cleared(thankfully not setting off the alarm) in his place stood a huge bat. Well a bat/human cross. His body was that of a human but he had large black wings instead. Long claws protruded from his feet and horns curled from a bat-like face.

He gently grasped Vergil in his claws and wedged himself out the window, batting his wings in the air and pointedly ignoring the screams of terror and gasps of appalled shock that followed his path as he left their view.

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**Wolfe: There it is. The beginning of a new story. Special thanks to all who are helping and contributing to this. Now, my minions!! Review!!**


	2. Warm Hospitality

**Wolfe: I have the new chapter!! I think people are going to love this story, but I will leave that for you to decide. On with the story!! Forgive me!! *cowers* I didn't mean for it to take this long!! Sorry!!!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own.**

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Lex Shalom watched as hid faithful R.G. commander came into view, his bat-like body easily fluttering through the sky. Using the pair of binoculars around his neck he looked, hoping to see that he had brought back what he had been sent out to get. He was not disappointed, for hanging from his clawed feet was the limp body of somebody clothed in a hospital gown. Vlad pulled his wings back and landed with a grunt on the mat Lex had laid out, dropping Vergil from his grasp. He was greeted with a smile and a pat on the back.

"Excellent work, Vladimyr. You took much less time then I thought you would." Vlad showed his pleasure at the praise by rumbling deep in his chest and smiling. "Thank you sir. If you would excuse me for a moment, I'll change back and we can proceed. Then, I think I'll head down and make sure Forty-three didn't keel over from yesterday's incident." Lex nodded and stepped inside off the balcony for a moment. From his place leaning against the desk in the room he saw a bright flash of light and a groaning roar was heard. The light dissipated and Lex gave Vlad five minutes to recollect himself.

Vlad's demonic form had only two drawbacks. He was extremely vulnerable to sunlight and reverting to his human self hurt. Vlad entered the room at that time, Vergil slung over his should like a sack of potatoes. "Which cell do I put him in Sir?" Lex shook his head and grinned. "No cell. Put him in the guest bedroom." Vlad looked puzzled. "Sir?" He asked and shifted his weight from one leg to the other and back.. "We're going to enlist a little psychological warfare. You up for a little game of ring-around the castle?" Vlad smiled widely.

"Do I even need to answer that question Sir?" Ring-around the castle was a "game" the they didn't really like to enlist very often because it required a lot of time and manpower. But it always produced some of the best results. Place a prisoner in one area, mess with them in some way or the other, knock them out and move them. It was tiresome at times but always worked. And was so incredibly fun for the jailers that it wasn't funny. Lex simply smiled and allowed Vlad to lead the way to the nearest guest bedroom.

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Vergil shifted with a groan. Oh how he hurt. He slowly forced his eyes open with a low ragged moan. Wait just a minute! This wasn't the hospital! Vergil shot up in the bed he was laying in, instantly regretting it as he pulled the stitches on his chest. He heard a shuffle in the shadows of the room and he glared hard, hoping to draw who or whatever it was from the recess of his hiding place. He saw a pair of glowing blue eyes and finally a large lizard the size of a small horse padded forward, scales glinting in the dim light of lamp it held in it's jaws, large wings beating behind him, bull-like horns looking sharp and deadly.

It's eyes were distrustful as it padded forward and set the lamp on the bedside table, giving Vergil a better view of the room. It was painted in a dark royal blue and the silk bedclothes matched the color. Vergil let a blush cross his face when he noticed he wasn't wearing any cloths, just a pair of black boxers, also silk, and bandages all over the place. The lizard stood up with his front paws on the edge of the bed and gently nosed Vergil back down.

"The Master says you should rest. Dinner will be in soon. You've been asleep for quite awhile, Mr. Vergil. I hope you're not in too much pain." Vergil blinked. It _talked. _It's voice was a distorted sounding growl and it was kind, though it seemed meant to be mean. The lizard pressed his nose to Vergil's forehead and hummed softly. "Your fever had gone down. That's a good thing. Can I get you anything, Mr. Vergil?"

Getting over his shock, Vergil nodded. "Some water, if at all possible." The lizard nodded and padded over to the side of the room, using his tail to open the door of a small fridge. He watched as the creature gently grabbed a bottle in his jaws and padded back, gently laying the bottle next to his knees. Vergil patted the lizard on the head, noticing that he almost flinched away but managed to stop the action for fear of offending Vergil. "Do you have a name?"

The lizard flinched. "No, Sir. At least, I don't think I do." Vergil felt a pull at his heartstrings. Now that he was adjusted to the light he could see that the lizard was bone-thin and haunted looking. "Well then, for now, I'll call you...Aviador." It meant Flyer in Spanish, for his wings looked like he could fly anywhere he wanted. Aviador smiled but froze violently when there was a sharp whistle from beyond the door and down the hall.

"Shit!" Vergil jumped at the curse that left Aviador. "Forgive me, but I must depart, lest I be tied to the gallows again. My Guardian will be most displeased if I don't come to his call." Vergil gave another shocked nod as Aviador left the lamp on the beside table and scurried out.

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Vlad tapped his foot impatiently as his ward scrabbled on the stone floors of the castle hallways, darting forward. His claws scraped violently and he skid, horns getting stuck comically in the caulking of the stone wall. "Um, Master." It begged slightly, bracing his paws and trying to pull the horns out. Vlad let him scrabble away for a few minutes before he reached over, grabbed the horns and yanked. His ward went flying back and landed against the wall, looking dazed for a moment before he stood, head bowed in front of Vlad.

"You called, Master?" He mumbled. "Yes. How is Mr. Vergil? I assume he is in good condition considering you were talking to him for fifteen minutes." The lizard nodded. "Good. Very good Forty-three. You'll have to take care of him for a few more days before we can move him again. Do you think you can balance that and your training." Forty-three nodded and leaned into Vlad's hand slightly when it landed between his ears and began petting slightly. "That's my good boy. I'll have someone else bring dinner to him. For now, return to your den and rest. Dorri said that the flexor muscle in your wing would not heal if you moved too much."

Forty-three nodded and padded away, Vlad watching his back the entire way. He'd been watching over Forty-three since he was brought in as a mere dragon fledgling, a human no more than four years old, his parents unable to deal with the fact that their child was a demon. He'd been dropped off at the orphanage until Lex found him, noticing that he carried special features. He'd brought him home that day, stripped the child of his name and gave him a number. Vlad and Kayta were the only ones, besides Lex and Forty-three, who knew his name.

Vlad glanced at the door down the hall that housed their newest experiment. All conditions permitting, he would be stripped off his name and given a number. All permanent experiments were given a number to be known by and tattooed with. Forty-three's tattoo was on his neck and Vlad couldn't, after years of caring for him, stand seeing it the black serial number there. So long ago he'd bought Forty-three a collar to cover it. Black leather studded with sapphires and emeralds and gray tribal drifts ingrained into the leather. Forty-three never took it off. For it was his tag of ownership and the other people of the lab knew to leave him alone, less they suffer Vlad's wrath.

Vlad sighed and walked down the hall, hand resting on the pommel of Samael, his Rapier as he waltzed to his own room, the late evening breeze cooling the air all around him.

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Vergil sighed as he pushed the food around on his plate, unsure whether or not it was safe to eat. It didn't smell bad, but many poisons were completely undetectable so he was admittedly nervous. Swallowing his pride, he swallowed a forkful of the roast beef, tasting it with caution. It was good!! He ate, finally realizing it was good and he was really hungry. In less than ten minutes, the food was gone and he was feeling a little sleepy. Okay, _really _sleepy. As Vergil succumbed to the odd sleep, he knew he'd been had.


	3. Hot Blood

**Wolfe: I'm sorry!! I didn't mean for this to take so long. I was moving and classes are starting and I just got caught up in all of it. But I come bearing a new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Sorry ladies and Gentlemen, but I don't own it.**

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Lex watched as three interns moved the sleeping half-devil into the dessert containment area, usually where they kept the cold-blooded experiments. But it would suit their purposes for now. The sedative in the food had worked wonderfully and for now he had been unconscious for over three hours. He glanced behind him as he heard a soft reptilian hiss, turning when he saw number Forty-three and Vlad padding up to the viewing window.

"Good evening Sir. Are we moving to stage two?" Lex nodded, absentmindedly petting Forty-three between his horns as he watched. "Yes. We'll be sending in the assaults here as soon as he awakens, but that may be awhile. The chef said he put a little too much in the potatoes." Vlad nodded. "When will I get a-" Lex held up his hand. "Towards the end, Vlad. Have patients, it will be soon. He's already half broken." Vlad sighed heavily but nodded, watching as Forty-three stuck his nose against the glass and growled. "I hate to ask Sir, but will I get a chance?"

Vlad and Lex could only smile.

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Vergil awoke with a groan, wincing to himself as he pulled unintentionally at his injuries. He was surprised that they still hadn't healed, but that could have been because he had so many. He slowly pried his eyes open, groaning again as bright light bounced against his glassy blue eyes. "Where am I?" He wondered blankly and he gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position. Only to be stopped by the sound of dozens of snarls.

He whipped around, eyes widening when he noticed he was surrounded by both assaults and the odd hellhound or two. "Oh shit." Was the only thing that he could get past his locked jaw, reaching for his waist out of instinct, trying to locate his weapon. Only to find it gone. Caught between his fight or flight instinct and with nothing to fight with, he did the only thing he could do.

He ran.

Or tried to anyway. The minute he moved, his bad leg's wound split opened and he tumbled down from his half raised position, splitting the rest of his wounds open. A scream wrenched unbidden from his lips as he tried to gather himself enough to formulate another plan. He listened in horror as an assault padded forward and nosed him softly. Odd behavior for a creature usually so fierce. But he soon found out why. The assault bit into the back of his neck, levered him up and threw him into the pack of waiting demons, roaring in sport as he flew.

The minute he hit the ground, screaming loudly as his leg took another hit and his arm re-shattered, he was set upon by dozens of demons, all of them biting and scratching where ever they could get a hold on, some lifting his body in the air and tossing him to another demon or to the ground. On the fifth toss he landed heavily on the ground, darkness bleeding into the edges of his vision. Had he been brought to this place just to be used as a toy, then eaten?

Just as he was about to let unconsciousness, and probably death, claim him, he heard the soft _whiff whiff_ of wings in the sky, fighting against the soft breeze that the area held. He glanced upwards, wondering if the angel of death had come to take him back to hell, when he noticed that the form in the sky was most definitely reptilian, the bright scales being the dead giveaway. The creature landed in front of him, letting out a bellow of a roar as the other demons ran away.

Vergil dimly glanced up as the great creature as it leaned down, nosing him softly. He dimly reached a hand up to pet his rescuer on the nose but he didn't expect what happened next. The creature snatched his arm up in it's jaws and took to the sky, wings beating the air effortlessly. He yelled in pain as his arm disconnected from his shoulder and sharp teeth dug new trenches in his arm. But the creature didn't stop there. He dropped Vergil and would let him fall until he almost reached the ground, nose diving and grabbing just as he was about to hit the ground.

So his rescuer was receiving joy from his pain as well? The he was no better from the demons he had "saved" him from.

Unable to take the stress, Vergil almost passed out as the creature finally landed with a heavy thump on the ground, roaring as he threw Vergil violently against a tree. All Vergil could do was groan weakly as the creature stomped forward, for all intensive purposes looking as if he was going to spear him with a horn. But the lizard-creature stopped short, red eyes suddenly turning a brilliant green as horror crossed it's face.

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Forty-three stopped short, horror coursing through his system as he looked at the fallen form in front of him. _"Oh God. What have I done?" _He screamed internally as the form, Vergil was his name, finally passed out against a scraggly tree that had managed to survive the harsh dessert climate. He loosed a roar of horror and self-loathing as he backed away, dimly aware his Masters were coming towards him. He quickly reverted and spun around, tears leaking down his face as he knelt.

He knew better than to run towards them and ask for comfort. They would come to him when they were ready. They would comfort him and ease his hurt if they thought he deserved it. No more, but often less. As they drew nearer, Forty-three was horrified to see both of his Masters were incensed beyond comprehension. He was screwed.

Lex stomped his way over to him, roaring rage, face red in his anger. "What the _hell _was that!! You just jeopardized our entire project with that little stunt you just pulled!! What were thinking?! Honestly?!" His voice wavered in mid-shout and he slapped a hand over his face, glancing between his fingers to watch Forty-three bow his head and begin to tremble.

Vlad gazed at his ward, taking in the situation. This was bad. Usually Lex just glared at him then sent him to a room for punishment of some kind. But Vlad could see that Lex was going to do no such thing this time. He was well and truly pissed, and that meant someone was going to end up in the infirmary before the day was over. Most likely Forty-three. Now Usually Vlad would step in, volunteer to take Forty-three's punishment under his of accord.

But not today. Today, Forty-three was gonna learn how deal with his own actions. And all the consequences that went with them.

Lex marched forward, planted a foot in Forty-three's chest and pushed him back harshly, pinning him to the earthy ground with a heavy boot and a growl. "You will pick him up, carry him to Dorri and once he's in the infirmary, you're going to report to room 204 for punishment. You have exactly one hour to get this done. If you're even a minute late, I will send the hounds after you. Am I understood?" Forty-three gave a frightened nod. "And I don't care what form you use, just get the job done."

Another frightened nod and the minute the boot was lifted, he was up, transforming again into his lizard-like form, trotting promptly over and gently scooping up Vergil's fallen form by the back of the scrub-like shirt he wore, padding silently away, tail down and between his legs.

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Forty-three padded into the infirmary, a large, hospital looking wing of the labs, and was met by a woman with long blue hair of medium height with bright pink eyes. Dorri. At least, that's what she said her name was. No one knew if she had a last name, or if it was even her real first name. Nobody asked though because when Dorri got mad, people got killed. Yes she was violent, but also very caring and compassionate when the situation called for it.

"What happened now? He looks like he's seen hell and back multiple times." Forty-three only shook his head gently, laying the battered and bleeding form on the table that was silently indicated to him. "Not far from it. He saw the dessert containment room. And my teeth." Dorri nodded. "Lex's new pet or a one time deal?" She asked, bustling about the small, sterile room and getting things she would need to patch up her latest patient. "From the amount of trouble I'm in for nearly having him for a mid-day snack? I would say his new pet."

She nodded in understanding. "You should know by now that Lex gets a little over protective of his new pets, no matter how long they last." Forty-three shook his horned head at her comment. "I don't know what came over me Dorri!! I just smelt this weird coppery scent in the air and I- I- Oh I don't know!! I went berserk!! I was playing with my food essentially!!" Dorri blinked, usually unshaken by Forty-three's outbreak.

But this sounded like something she couldn't ignore. A coppery scent in the air? That usually meant blood. And if Forty-three was suffering blood cravings now? Then it was that time of year for his species again. Not long after Forty-three had come to live with them in the lab, they had determined that, through many an unsanctioned test, he was not a demon, but instead a long lost species thought only to exist in old fairy tales.

A Dragon.

As Forty-three grew, their suspicions were only confirmed as he went through the changes only Dragons went through. From the information they had gotten from old tomes and books, Dragons went through four stages of evolution; Fledgling, Adolescent, Mating Age, and finally Anziano. Forty-three, even though he was well into his late twenties, was still stuck in the rift of transition between Fledgling and Adolescent and that meant, once a year when a Dragon's mother and father would usually feed the fledgling a human to promote growth, Forty-three got the unsatisfiable urge for blood of any kind.

And he became an unstoppable, dangerous, blood-thirsty killer.

Dorri would talk to Lex about leaning off on the punishment just this once so they could do what they normally did when this time came around. Which meant sedating him for almost a week while the cravings worked their way out of his body. She reached into her pocket as Forty-three left the room, hitting speed dial one, waiting for him to answer his phone.

"Hello?" Was the response she received. "Hey Lex? It's Dorri. We got a problem. Forty-three's suffering blood cravings again. That's why he went ballistic. Do you want me to do what we usually do?" There was silence as Lex processed this information. "No. You can have him after I'm finished with him. You can sedate him while you're fixing his wounds." Dorri shook her head, but had no choice but to comply. "As you wish. Good-bye." She looked up as she was putting her phone away to notice that Forty-three was already gone.

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Forty-three stood in front of the door to room 204, once again human, as was the procedure when he was receiving punishment. He knocked on the door, receiving a "Come in!" for his troubles. He pushed the door open with some hesitation, but he quickly padded into the all purpose room, kneeling in front of a frowning Lex Shalom. "You know the drill Forty-three."

Forty-three nodded and held his arms low and to the side, wincing as metal cuffs were attached tightly around his wrists, so he would be held there, no matter what. Even his great strength couldn't break the chains when he tried with all his might, so he didn't even bother to try anymore. He bowed his head and waited for the first strike, surprised when all he heard was the sound of the door closing and locking.

He glanced up, turning towards the observation room with a bewildered look. What was going to happen? His keen hearing picked up the sound of metal trapdoors opening and soon the room was filled with over twenty hell hounds, all smiling at the prospect of a new meal. His keen hearing picked up the shrill low of a whistle and he was set upon.

Soon howls of joy filled the air, harmonized with screams of agony and the heady scent of blood.


End file.
